Saturday Nights are for Shirley Temples
by honeybutter
Summary: "Madame Rouge said there were only two types of people in the world: those who had money and those who owed it." A story in which Jinx is a snarky bartender with a penchant for sarcasm and Wally's the odd man who (unnecessarily) decides to keep her company. Flinx AU Series.
1. Chapter 1

So yeah, just a little diddy I wrote last night. Although it's an AU, I tried to keep most things as canon as possible (i.e. names, places, evil crime organizations). Basically, this is what happens when I drink and have access to a computer at 1AM. If all goes well, I'll definitely keep the story going (I already drunkenly outlined it lol). Can't tell if it's any good, but enjoy!

* * *

Madame Rouge said there were only two types of people in the world: those who had money and those who owed it.

As the smaller man crumpled under the brute strength of Mammoth's destructive jab, Jinx remembered why she was so set on being the former. Hidden beneath the shadows of the back alley, Jinx watched with mild interest as Mammoth and Billy took turns beating the defenseless man into a bloodied pulp. It wasn't often the two delinquents—or any of them for that matter—needed a babysitter, but after getting too "excited" the last few times things needed to change.

Collecting debts didn't work if the poor schmucks were six feet under.

After hearing a particularly gruesome _crunch_ and anguished cry coming from the broken body lying at the two boys' feet, Jinx decided to step in. Strolling over with the kind of cool confidence that came from dealing with much worse than some bloodshed, she crouched down in her platform boots and looked the poor man straight in his freshly bruised eyes.

"Nicholas Hall, was it?" Jinx didn't wait for him to respond. "The Brotherhood gets angry when people play them for fools, and trust me—the Brotherhood is _very_ upset with you."

She heard him manage a faint 'please' from his busted lips, but gave a quick look towards Mammoth. Immediately the gigantic man sent a kick to Nick's ribs.

"They need the money tonight, Nicky. Not tomorrow, not next week, _tonight_ —and they want all of it. Bring it to The Hive by closing and you might live to make another bet." Running a hand across Nick's discolored face, he winced as her nails scrapped over the throbbing welts, "and I wouldn't run again if I was you—it didn't seem to go too well this time."

Rising to her feet, Jinx leisurely strolled out of the alley and into the soft glow of Jump City's sunset. Without so much a glance back, Jinx barked a farewell.

"Boys, finish up and get him out of here. We open in an hour." A small smile graced her face as the faint sound of skin hitting skin echoed behind her.

_x_

Nestled among the smokestack warehouses in Jump City's Northside district, The Hive looked every part the depleted, seedy bar it claimed to be. A dive bar in the most honest sense, its chipped paint walls, squeaky bar stools , and overarching stench of stale beer gave local law enforcement no reason to wander into its hanging-by-a-screw front entrance.

That was The Brotherhood's best kept secret.

Past the low hanging ceilings and layer of dust that coated everything stood The Hive's true function: one of the most notorious gambling rings in the tri-state area. From CEO's to city councilman, The Brotherhood entertained some of the wealthiest, well known, and infamous men on the West Coast all within the crumbling walls of The Hive. Seldom people knew of its existence (you had to be in a certain tax bracket to even get an invite), but those who did knew the magic words.

"I'll have a glass of Umqombothi, please, hold the ice."

Looking up from the shot of whiskey she'd been pouring for another customer, Jinx came face to face with an impeccably dressed man in a designer suit—completely out of place among The Hive's average warehouse worker clientele. Reaching into a special cabinet underneath the bar top's surface, Jinx pulled out a nameless clear bottle and poured the brown liquid into the man's cup. Umqombothi, Mounsier Mallah's favorite South African beer, was the drink of choice for those who could afford to play the game. Gesturing towards a lone door guarded by Mammoth and Billy Numerous at the back of the bar, regarded as The Backroom, Jinx leaned towards the man.

"Take the glass and tell them Jinx sent you."

The man gave a curt nod to Jinx when he took a quick sip of the Umqombothi and made his way to the guarded entrance.

"Sure are a lot of High Rollers tonight, huh," fellow bartender and Hive colleague Seymour mentioned as he slid behind the bar next to Jinx. High Rollers, as Seymour called them, were the handpicked favorites that The Brotherhood allowed into their very secret, vey illegal gambling racket. Jinx could only agree as she saw another affluent man waltz through the door and start towards her through the throng of blue collar laborers. Her eyes met Kyd's across the room from where he sat quietly observing. A silent enforcer, Kyd lacked all the loud dramatics of Billy and Mammoth, and stealthily kept patrons of The Hive in check from his usual corner booth.

"You think it has anything to do with that meeting Madame Rouge had to go to?" Seymour wondered aloud, reaching across Jinx to grab the margarita mixer and running to prepare the drink. As co-leader of The Brotherhood, Madame Rouge met with The Brain and Monsieur Mallah at least once a week so that wasn't an unusual occurrence. It was, however, an unusual occurrence that nearly 2/3's of the Umqombothi bottle was empty. Regardless of the reason, all Jinx knew was that behind her in The Hive's Backroom was more money than she'd ever seen in her twenty-one short years of living. Which reminded her—she needed to be on the lookout for a certain Nicholas Hall to bring The Brotherhood's money or he was as good as dead.

Although The Brotherhood preferred the High Rollers, they were smart enough the keep the Low Rollers around for economic cushioning. While the High Rollers could always afford their debts, the Low Rollers couldn't and subsequently paid in other ways. In Nicholas Hall's case, what he couldn't pay in cash could be made up through resources—not that Jinx understood their reasoning. Why The Brotherhood accepted the neighboring paper mill owner's offer of free access as a form of payment was beyond her.

Noticing the clock read 10:31PM, Jinx tsk'd to herself and smirked. Nicky had a little less than three hours to pay his $5,000 dollar debt or risk facing the wrath of some of Jump City's most notorious crime lords. Lost in her own head, the bubblegum pink haired girl didn't notice the newest man to sit at her bar.

"Can I have Shirley Temple, extra ice please?" Surprised, Jinx whipped around to find a pair of dark blue eyes staring questioningly back at her. A dumbfounded expression was all she could manage before regaining her composure.

"A Shirley Temple…like the non-alcoholic drink?"

"Yeah, do you know how to make it?" the man asked with a suspiciously friendly smile. Dressed in a simple red pullover jacket and jeans, Jinx wracked her brain for a memory of him. She usually remembered the regulars, High and Low Rollers, who came into The Hive every week. This man, with his bright ginger hair and relaxed demeanor, put Jinx on edge.

"Yes?" she snapped, trying her hardest to remember how much ginger ale was added to the mix. It took a quick Google search on her phone and a few moments of discrete fumbling to create the concoction, but when Jinx shoved the drink in front of the man he simply stared back at her. Impatiently cocking her head, Jinx frowned.

"What?"

"…you forgot the cherry."

"We don't have any cherries."

"Hmm…what kind of bar doesn't have cherries?"

"The kind that doesn't serve Shirley Temples," Jinx hissed. Her normally effective glare fell on blind eyes as the man gave a mock gasp and theatrically placed a hand over his heart.

"And here you've made one just for me, I'm touched."

A beat passed between Jinx and the odd man before he smiled a megawatt smile. It was right about now Jinx regretted even considering making the out-of-ordinary request.

"Wally," he said reaching out his hand for a shake, "and you are?"

"Uninterested."

Most of the men she rejected while on the job called her a bitch or simply ordered another drink to ease the pain of Jinx's insults. Instead "Wally" let out a hardy laugh and continued to smile at Jinx, despite her walking away to take more customers' orders.

"Do you always work the Saturday shift?"

"And why would I tell you that?" Jinx questioned, glancing at Wally as if he was utterly stupid.

"I don't know, I was hoping I would have another chance to talk with someone as gorgeous as you."

In the midst of pouring a vodka cranberry for a woman a few seats over, Jinx nearly fumbled the liquor bottle at Wally's word and barely saved face in front of the crowded room.

"You're name will do," he spoke again. He still sat there on the crooked bar stool smiling that unassuming smile at her. Freak.

Mustering up the sweetest, tooth decaying she could, Jinx smiled (grimaced) at Wally.

"My name's Anna—"

"Jinx!" a nervous voice belonging to Nicholas Hall broke over the loud buzz of the room as he squeezed his way towards the eyes were nearly swollen shut and his face was a mix of yellowish-purple bruised blotches. Glancing at the clock again, Jinx nodded.

2:30AM

He came with 30 minutes to spare. Once at the bar, Nicholas crashed next to Wally and immediately started.

"I, um, have the orders—out back I mean!" Discretion was apparently not Nicholas's forte.

"Great, take them to The Backroom," Jinx dismissed.

"But…"

Following his line of sight, Jinx found him anxiously staring at Mammoth and Billy who guarded said room. Lowering her voice, Jinx narrowed her eyes at the cowering man.

"I said, take them to The Backroom." Keeping illegal money out of sight seemed like a fairly easy concept, but the longer Nicholas looked between her and his assailants she realized she would need to break it down.

"Nicholas," she snapped, grasping the man's full attention, "take those orders to Gizmo in The Backroom. We don't need anyone else helping with _inventory_."

"Oh! Right! Right away!" and just as quickly as he came, the limping Nicholas Hall made a b-line for The Backroom. Jinx could only roll her eyes and pinch the bridge of her nose in irritation. Honestly, was working with complete idiots?

"Anna, huh?"

 _Shit._

Taking a final sip of his Shirley Temple, Wally put a crisp $10 bill under his glass and stood to leave.

"Any chance I could call you sometime?"

"Hell no," Jinx spat, snatching his empty glass and the money with it off the counter. Wally, who now halfway out the door, flashed her one last grin. What was with this kid?

"See ya soon, Jinx."

_x_

Yawning, Wally leisurely stretched his arms above his head as he finally reached his car. He'd parked a few blocks over from The Hive and the chilly March weather made him regret it instantly. Once comfortably back in his car and starting his drive back to Jump City's Eastside, Wally made the call.

"Chief…? Yeah…she's here. I think we're onto something."


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter! I'm sorry for taking so long, but I recently graduated college so I've had my hands full for the last few months trying to get my life in order lol. This chapter was longer than I anticipated, but I wanted to fit in a few details that will become important later on in the story.

KF fan: It's not really related to the Flash series per say, rather I just this was an interesting angle to explore.

Feel free to leave any comments, criticisms, or thoughts! TY!

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"Alright, what have you got for me son?"

Officer Wally West, newest member of the Jump City Police Department, made sure to stand tall and steady his voice before speaking.

"The rate of petty theft seems to have risen in the past few weeks so we're monitoring local pawn shops and working with cooperative shop owners to watch for any suspicious activity. And besides the occasional drunk & disorderly call and a few speeding tickets, the area's pretty quiet."

Captain Richard Hale, current Chief of Police and Wally's superior, gave an understanding nod as he leaned forward in his chair. His fingers tapped rhythmically against his wooden desk, keeping time with the tic-toc of the clock clicking on the wall behind him.

"Quiet just means we're not digging deep enough," he uttered, pulling a thick manila folder out of his top right drawer and dropping it on desk space between the two men. Quickly fluttering through the wave of pages, Wally watched the older man search the case file before stopping with an expectant look and pulling out a slightly grainy photo.

"I'll admit I had my reservations about putting you on this case, and a lot of my guys disagreed…

Recently transferred from the Keystone City Police Department, some of the more seasoned cops considered him a bit of a rookie and weren't too pleased with letting the new kid work such a longstanding case.

"…but I think a young, fresh pair of eyes may be what we need." Holding up the photo to the light, the small smudge of pink in the picture became more pronounced. "So, get lucky?"

"Actually," Wally chuckled, "she goes by Jinx. She's a bartender at the place on 6th and Benson, The Hive. Works Saturday nights and from what I can tell seems to know what goes on in there."

"Anything that will hold up in court?" questioned Captain Hale, an edge of frustration evident in his tone.

Just as cunning as they were criminal The Brotherhood proved to be experts at covering their tracks and with a team of less than moral lawyers on call, they were nearly untouchable. Every case brought against The Brotherhood had ended in either a few months of probation, community service, or dropped all together. No Chief of Police has been able to lead a successful total takedown of The Brotherhood, but if Captain Hale had any say in it his administration would be the first.

"I'm not sure Captain, but if what we've heard is true and The Brotherhood's pulling some strings on the Northside then she may know something. I just need more time."

Captain Hale was visibly at war with himself. Building a case strong enough to lock up those Brotherhood goons took time, but more time meant they were still running amuck across the city.

"If you want to nail The Brotherhood on a crime they can't slither their way out of then give me time, Captain. No more half assed verdicts. Promise."

A beat of silence passed through the office and Wally tried to hide his fidgeting. Silence made him antsy.

With stern eyes, Captain Hale held the photo out for Wally. "No more half assed verdicts. You got a month."

Tucking the photo in his pocket, Wally was halfway out the door when Captain Hale called out.

"If I were you, I'd start by figuring out how those two know each other."

Wally didn't need to look at the photo to know what he meant—he'd taken it himself during one of his patrols. It was a snapshot of two women walking mid-step past a large warehouse.

With her pink hair angled in by the wind, "Jinx" was currently being searched in their database for any prior records and identity information. Her companion, on the other hand, needed no such introduction.

Madame Rouge was well known wherever she went.

Leaning against the hard oak of the bar top, Jinx watched with mild curiosity as the hyperactive Southerner practically bounced on the squeaky barstool.

"Nothing like a bit of dark liquor to put some hair on ya' chest," Billy said with a howl and satisfied smack of his lips.

"So it's safe to assume they're your first?"

"Oh Jinx, your sarcasm wounds me!" Billy exclaimed with an overdramatic, mocking flail of his arms before not-so-subtly holding his glass up for a refill. If it was anyone else she would have hissed that Madame Rouge had a 'no drinking on the job' policy, but Billy drank with such obnoxious bravado that he was clearly too stupid to care.

"Don't you have tables to clean?"

"Don't you have drinks to pour?" He said with a wave of his glass.

Staring incredulously at him Jinx could only groan, "It's not even noon."

"It's 5 o'clock somewhere," Billy shrugged.

A beat passed between the two, Jinx's sharp eyes glaring into Billy's amused ones. The ice in Billy's glass clanked when he shook it again. Huffing, Jinx pushed herself off the counter and began to pour another shot. If he wanted to get chewed out and look like an idiot _again_ in front of Madame Rouge that was on him.

"You know she ain't here yet, right? She's still as that meeting with Brain and Mallah and you know those two windbags can talk forever—"

"Sure can! Creepy, too," Seymour chimed in from his seat next to Billy. Kyd silently nodded his head from the Billy's other side.

"Bossy crud-munchers" Gizmo added, pulling himself onto the seat next to Seymour. A savant with numbers and hacking, the younger boy spent most of his time in the backroom tinkering with The Hive's video cameras or tracking the money coming through the backroom.

Mammoth was sitting on the seat next to Kyd, the pure weight of him making the stool creak in protest. "They kinda smell too…"

Cackling loudly, the boys continued joking as Jinx's anger boiled. Madame Rouge had ordered them to The Hive to do last minute chores and have a "chat" as she liked to call it, but was nearing an hour late. Jinx had finished taking stock of their alcohol quickly and one by one the boys had (for the most part) finished their tasks too.

"If you ask me," Billy continued, "we're oughta just split. We should be out their getting our own piece of the pie instead of sitting here waiting for some old-timers to tell us what to do."

Shoving the drink at Billy with more force than intended Jinx couldn't stop the frown tugging at her lips, "You should be thanking them."

The boys' laughter quickly died and they all turned to her.

"Thanking them?" Billy scoffed, "For what? Letting us do the grunt work?"

Jinx narrowed her eyes, "For teaching you to do more than steal hub caps and rob parking meters."

"Big difference, we basically do that now!" Mammoth argued, crossing his massive arms over his equally massive chest.

"There's a bigger picture—"

"Yeah," Seymour huffed, "and we ain't even in it."

"On the contrary," a sultry voiced called out and instantly a chill enveloped the room, "you're all quite useful...when you want to be."

With her signature red lips pulled into a scowl, Madame Rouge let the door slam behind her as she coolly walked into The Hive. The boys visibly flinched at each clack of Madame Rouge's stiletto heels, caught between puffing their chests in prideful defiance and shrinking under her piercing glare. Jinx, on the other hand, proudly rose at the sight of the woman and found her annoyance quickly dissipating into awe.

Halting in front the stunned workers, Madame Rouge fingers brushed against Billy's cheek as she reached past him and grasped the glass of half empty Jack Daniels. Holding it up to the light, the brown liquid shone as she dramatically swished the cup.

"It seems you've been drinking my drinks, no?

Jinx relished the way Billy trembled. Without warning Madame Rouge slowly tilted the glass and they watched in silence as the liquor cascaded to the floor, creating a puddle of whiskey. Never taking her eyes off Billy, the French women nonchalantly dropped the glass and didn't so much as wince when the shards shattered across the floor.

"I am taking your pay tonight to cover what you've _wasted_ ," her manicured finger poking Billy's quivering chest, "and you will give all tips to me. This is to repay what you have stolen from The Brotherhood, understood?"

Billy quickly nodded his head. "Excellent. Clean up your mess, it's filthy." Billy nearly slipped in the whiskey as he raced towards the supply closet.

Sparing the rest of them a hardened look, Madame Rouge continued.

"You four," she commanded the boys "bring in the boxes from the back alley."

"And you," Madame Rouge gestured towards Jinx, "come with me."

Following the woman out of the main bar, past The Backroom and into a small office burrowed away, Jinx couldn't help the admiration rolling off her in waves.

It was the way Madame Rouge carried herself, the way grown men the size of mountains seemed to bend at her will, the way she commanded a testosterone driven gang and led The Brotherhood like an infantry troop. She inspired fear and demanded respect in the same breath, and didn't give a shit if you liked it or not.

Jinx was going to be just like her.

Sitting down in her chair, Madame Rouge gestured towards the three bottles of Umqombothi sitting on her desk corner. "Take these and put them in your stock," Madame Rouge ordered offhandedly, waving her off.

Jinx nearly dropped one, but managed to collect the three large bottles in her skinny arms. Ignoring her boss's cue to exit, Jinx stood her ground as she waited for the older woman to address her.

Madame Rouge's quirked an eyebrow, "Question?"

Jinx hardened her voice, "One bottle lasts us at least a Saturday night. Why do I need three?"

"Expect to use more of it in the following weeks," Madame Rouge turned away from Jinx and began shifting through a pile of paper on her desk, "You're dismissed."

Grasping the cold metal knob, Wally discreetly touched the police badge tucked safely away in his jean pocket and took a breath.

 _No more half assed verdicts_

Pulling open the door, Wally was immediately hit with the familiar stench of stale alcohol. At a quarter to midnight, The Hive was full of its usual Saturday night buzz and he easily melded into the rowdy crowd.

Cracking The Brotherhood would take time, more than four weeks for sure, and if Wally wanted to keep good on his promise he needed to hit the ground running. He didn't have much time or evidence, but he had a lead.

Spotting a flash of pink across the room he made a b-line to the bar and plopped down in an open stool. Snapping that photo of Madame Rouge and Jinx by chance during his patrol was the spark this fire needed, and after stepping inside The Hive last Saturday he knew something was here. He just had to find it.

He'd sat there in silence for a few moments, watching her pastel pigtails fly behind her as she flitted from one side of the bar to the other. Despite her hairdo and tiny figure she looked around his age, maybe a year or two younger, and even under the harsh shine of the overhead lights her skin held it's youthful, albeit pale, glow. How she ended up here, surrounded by smoke and serving cheap drinks to the local drunks, was a question that had been nagging him all week.

Raising his hand to grab her attention, he was instead intercepted by a tan skinned man with round glasses.

"What can I get you, man?"

Wally spared the bartender a glance, vaguely recognizing him from last Saturday. Seymour, maybe. Undeterred he kept his eyes on Jinx.

"I was actually hoping to order from her," Wally nodded towards where she was taking an order from a man a few seats down. Wally noted the man's expensive suit and well-groomed appearance, an oddity in a place like this.

"She's busy," Seymour deadpanned, "What you want?"

He shrugged, "I'll wait. She knows how I like my drinks."

Seymour narrowed his eyes at Wally, clearly sizing him up. He frowned for a few seconds before calling over his shoulder.

"Jinx! You know this kid?"

Looking up from the drink she'd been pouring, Wally couldn't stop the butterflies whizzing through his stomach when her cat like eyes zeroed in on him. He also couldn't help notice the way her black dress fluttered as she stormed over.

Accomplice or not she was cute, sue him.

"Shirley Temple," she sarcastically drawled, looking absolutely unamused at his presence.

"I've always considered myself more of an _Annie_ , but I'm flattered."

"Do I need a restraining order or something?"

"So you _do_ work Saturdays."

"What do you want?" she hissed, swiftly cocking her head to the side.

"Can I have a Shirley Temple, extra ice and hold the cherries, please."

Jinx's face twisted in irritation and hesitation, emotions roaring through her fierce eyes. Wally counted to 15 before she dramatically huffed and turned to make his drink.

Patting his jean pocket again, Wally sat up a bit straighter and cleared his throat.

 _No more half assed verdicts_

"So how's your friend doing?"

"Funny," Jinx picked up ginger ale, "I don't have friends."

"You know," Wally lightly pushed, "the one who came in late last week. He looked pretty banged up. A visit to the doctor probably wouldn't hurt."

Wally watched Jinx subtly tick, something anyone not looking would miss, and add in the grenadine syrup. Although he played it cool it initially, it was hard not to miss the bruises Nick sported. He was three good punches from looking like a grape.

"He's fine, just real clumsy" she finished, dropping the glass in front of him and turning away. "I'll be sure to pass the message along."

She was trying to ditch him, but he wasn't done just yet.

"So does he do the inventory here?"

"Excuse me?" Jinx spun around, a look Wally couldn't quite read on her face.

"Inventory," he said with his most charming smile, "I overheard you talking about orders and inventory with him. Is he your shipment guy?"

"Who wants to know?" She snapped, her platform boots stomping with each step towards him.

"I just moved here a few weeks ago," Wally began, hoping he sounded believable, "I've been doing some odd jobs around the area for some cash—delivery mostly. If he's ever got his hands full I could always use the extra work."

Wally watched Jinx eye's trailed him from head to waist, seemingly picking apart every inch of him.

She scoffed, "we have enough help already."

"Is that so? Well maybe you could take my number just in case."

Jinx pushed her shaggy bangs off her forehead, "I can't imagine what I'd ever need that for."

"Like I said," Wally chuckled pulling out napkins from the holder, "just in case."

"I don't have a pen," she argued, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

"No worries, I always come with one." Scrawling his number on the napkin, Wally took a final gulp of his Shirley Temple and slid the napkin under the glass with his cash. Wally could practically see the steam shooting from her ears, but the pout on her lips made her much less menacing.

"You might be surprised. See ya round, Jinx."


End file.
